


Into your hand

by afrikate



Category: Fast Five (2011), Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: F/M, Gunplay, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:45:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrikate/pseuds/afrikate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night in a hotel room, a gun, and a bed</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into your hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grim_lupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_lupine/gifts).



It's not like Han doesn't know how to use a gun. In their line of work it's inevitable, and he's put in time on a range, knows he can handle himself if he needs to with whatever's available.

But it's nothing like how Gisele is with her weapons. She knows the tiniest detail of each of her pieces. Cleans them religiously on a schedule he can't quite figure out. She can disassemble one in under a minute and reassemble it just as fast, sliding each piece together without even looking at it.

He's watching her now, pieces laid out before her on the coffee table, lights from the city outside the only thing brightening their suite. There's one light that swings through every twenty seconds, like a strobe, flashing on her skin.

Flash, and her hands are holding a delicate brush and a piece of metal. She's concentrating on the slide, in and out, in and out. Another flash and she puts the piece down, picks up another, repeats the smooth motion, and he has to remember to breathe.

“This turns you on,” she says without looking at him, attention only on the gun she's cleaning.

“Yeah.” 

“What is it?” Gisele asks. “The gun? Me holding it?” Her voice is calm, curious; she really wants to know.

“How fast could you put that back together?” It's her Jericho, her favorite, if she were sentimental enough to have one.

She looks up, fingers still working. “Fifty-two seconds.”

She watches him as she puts the brush down and smoothly reassembles the weapon, locking a clip into it, chambering the first round, clicking the safety on.

He's breathing harder now, and his dick is so hard he needs to shift in his seat on the bed. Another flash from the light, and her arm with the gun comes up as she stands. She's got it in a steady two-hand grip, pointed at him. 

“Don't move,” she tells him, and he freezes, pulse jumps, cock impossibly harder in his jeans. Gisele's walking towards him, skirting the furniture without looking. Her every step is precise, as if she's memorized the layout of the room, and her eyes never leave his. 

“Safety's on,” he says, like a challenge, which is stupid, so stupid, because her only answer is to click it off as she keeps moving closer, aim unwavering. 

“Keep your hands on the bed,” she says, before she moves into touching distance. He forces his hands flat, feels the rough silk texture of the duvet beneath them. He's trying to control his breathing, but it's a lost cause when she places the gun against his temple.

She's studying him, cataloging his every reaction, the beads of sweat at his hairline, the rise and fall of his adam's apple as he swallows audibly. She shifts her grip to one hand, the other coming up to cup his face as she slowly slides the muzzle down his cheek, until it rests just at his pulse, jumping and wild. Slips the other hand up to grip his hair, fingers closing in it, giving a friendly tug that Han leans into, before she jerks his head back.

Han's breathing is rapid, his throat exposed in a tense line, eyes closed. He's fighting to get away from the pistol, but Gisele's grip is like iron; he can't move. He's barely controlling his panic and he knows, when he opens his eyes, his pupils must be blown. Gisele's standing over him, totally calm. She's watching, watching him gasp, watching his fingers clutch at the bed, watching his hips arch up, searching for touch, but she just presses the muzzle a little harder into his throat.

The moment draws out, her hand tight in his hair, tugging him back impossibly further, gun hand rock steady, and then, very precisely, she clicks on the safety.

He sighs out, a long, long exhale, and feels metal moving against his skin, up the delicate line of his throat, over his chin, like a kiss across his lips, and then gone. There's a low voice in his ear as she tells him to stay, and he does _(of course he does)_. Eyes closed, he traces her three quick steps, the click of metal on the glass of the nightstand, a soft rustle, and three steps back.

When he opens his eyes, Gisele's back in front of him. Her lips are quirked in a smile, but her eyes are serious and she puts her hand around his throat, grip firm. “All right?”

Han licks his lips, counts a breath in, out. “Yeah.”

Her smile gets a little bigger. “Yeah,” she says, sliding one hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, leaning in to take his mouth in a hard kiss, biting his lips, sucking on his tongue. He wants to touch her, cup her face, run his hands over her skin, but she hasn't said he can move yet. He's eager, though, leaning into the kiss, pushing into her mouth, until her hand shifts, sliding up to cup his head and tug on his hair again.

She pulls away, tightens her fingers in his hair and holds him tight when he tries to chase her mouth. He maybe whines a little, though he wouldn't admit it.

“Relax, babe, I got you.”

Han looks down, looks at his own hands, unrestrained and flexing. He wants--

Slim hand, golden skin sliding over his, stilling him. He looks up, and she's serious again, cupping his face between her hands, looking him right in the eye. “I have you. I _always_ have you. Let yourself go; I'll catch you.”

It takes another minute, another shuddering breath, and he does, relaxes into it again.

“Good, that's good, baby. So good. Now, let's get rid of this,” and she's pulling off his shirt, her own. “Mmmm...” she murmurs, before leaning forward and biting him right over his jugular, where her gun had rested. Han arches into it, moaning. “Yeah, baby, that's right, let me hear you.”

And then she's licking sucking marks down his throat, his chest, stopping every so often to pull back and blow air over them, making him jump every time. Her fingers are busy, running up and down his sides, stopping to pinch his ribs, his nipples, and he's thrusting up against her, even as she's moving back and he gets nothing but empty air.

Her hands slide down to rest on his cock, and it feels like he's been hard forever, the jeans he's wearing unforgiving. “Not yet, baby,” she tells him. “You need to stay still.”

He tries to object, but it comes out more as a moan, “Want...”

“What do you want, baby?” she asks.

“Want to touch you.” His hands are gripping the covers again, knuckles gone white from the effort of not reaching, grabbing.

“You will. You will. Just trust me a little longer.”

He looks up at that, catches her eyes. “Always.”

Her smile is so bright. “Know you do, Han.” Then she's kissing him again, deep and dirty.

It goes on like that for long enough that Han loses himself, loses time, her hands, clever and precise, stroking, pinching, squeezing, while her mouth sucked marks, biting, kissing, but always staying above the waist. 

Finally, finally, she steps back, and she's stripping off the rest of her clothes _(god, it's hard not to touch)_ , before he feels the bed shift as she climbs on and kneels up behind him. Her hands slide down his arms, down to where his fingers are still gripping the duvet, knuckles white. She loosens his fingers, one by one, whispering in his ear, telling him how good he's been, “So good, Han, now just let go, ok, baby. Just let go.”

He does, lets go of the duvet, flexes his hands, and she's running her own over them, rubbing back the feeling. It hurts, pins and needles, and she seems to know, brings one to her lips, kisses his palm, then slips two fingers in her mouth, sucking while he stares. He breaks then, begs, “Gisele, please,” and she straightens immediately, letting his fingers drop. 

She slips out from behind him, helps him up the bed, then strips off the rest of his clothes. He gasps when his cock is finally freed, just that almost enough of a release. “So hard, baby,” she says, her voice a tease, her hands stroking up his belly, chest, not touching where he needs it most.

“Gisele,” it's a moan, and she answers with another kiss.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“You, want you--”

She smiles, so brilliant he feels blinded, and then she's straddling him, sinking down, slow. “Ahhh, always...”

She sinks all the way down and then rises back up, just as slow, and it takes him a minute to realize he's allowed to use his hands now, to grip her hips and use his leverage to thrust up while she's sinking back down. It takes a little while to find a rhythm, but then they're there, fucking slick and hot and rough, Gisele's fingers digging into his chest, holding him down, raking him with her nails, pinching his nipple. Han's losing himself in her cunt, can hardly hold back, she's urging him on and on. He's close, so close after all this time, and she seems to know it, drops one hand to work her own clit as she grinds down harder. 

It's that visual as much as anything that has him shouting and thrusting one more time as he comes. Gisele keeps riding him, continuing to grind down, working herself until she comes too. 

Han's still catching his breath when Gisele gets up to clean them up, then slips back beside him, wraps him in her arms. She kisses his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, hands sliding soothingly along his sides. She stays quiet as he comes back to himself, gathers him up as he snuggles in closer, hands tight around his back. 

He's starting that slide into the warm safe feeling of her body close to his, and he hears, just before he falls into sleep, “I've always got you, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, did I want to write the fix-it fic where both Gisele and Han survive. I have some ideas cooking, actually, but unfortunately I don't write fast enough to finish that for Yuletide. So, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy a little bit of porn with our favorite felonious couple.


End file.
